The Green Mummy [24]
Inspector: "Why should he want the mummy?"
Coroner: "That is what we wish to find out."
Inspector: "Exactly, sir. We wish to learn the reason why the murderer strangled the deceased."
Coroner: "We know that reason. What we wish to know is why the murderer stole the mummy. And I would point out to you, Mr. Inspector, that, as yet, we do not even know the sex of the assassin. It might be a woman who murdered the deceased."
Professor Braddock, who was seated near the door of the coffee-room, being even more irascible than usual, rose to contradict.
"There isn't a scrap of evidence to show that the murderer was a woman."
Coroner: "You are out of order, sir. And I would point out that, as yet, Inspector Date has produced no witnesses."
Date glared. He and the Coroner were old enemies, and always sparred when they met. It seemed likely, that the peppery little Professor would join in the quarrel and that there would be a duel of three; but Date, not wishing for an adverse report in the newspapers as to his conduct of the case, contented himself with the glare aforesaid, and, after a short speech, called Braddock. The Professor, looking more like a cross cherub than ever, gave his evidence tartly. It seemed ridiculous to his prejudiced mind that all this fuss should be made over Bolton's body, when the mummy; was still missing. However, as the discovery of the criminal would assuredly lead to the regaining of that precious Peruvian relic, he curbed his wrath and answered the Coroner's questions in a fairly amiable fashion.
And, after all, Braddock had very little to tell. He had, so he stated, seen an advertisement in a newspaper that a mummy, swathed in green bandages, was to be sold in Malta; and had sent his assistant to buy it and bring it home. This was done, and what happened after the mummy left the tramp steamer was known to everyone, through the medium of the press.
"With which," grumbled the Professor, "I do not agree."
"What do you mean by that?" asked the Coroner sharply.
"I mean, sir," snapped Braddock, equally sharply, "that the publicity given by the newspapers to these details will probably place the assassin on his guard."
"Why not on her guard?" persisted the Coroner wilfully.
"Rubbish! rubbish! rubbish! My mummy wasn't stolen by a woman. What the devil would a woman want with my mummy?"
"Be more respectful, Professor."
"Then talk sense, doctor," and the two glared at one another.
After a moment or two the situation was adjusted in silence, and the Coroner asked a few questions, pertinent to the matter in hand.
"Had the deceased any enemies?"
"No, sir, he hadn't, not being famous enough, or rich enough, or clever enough to excite the hatred of mankind. He was simply an intelligent young man, who worked excellently when supervised by me. His mother is a washerwoman in this village, and the lad brought washing to my house. Noting that he was intelligent and was anxious to rise above his station, I engaged him as my assistant and trained him to do my work."
"Archaeological work?"
"Yes. I don't wash, whatever Bolton's mother may, do. Don't ask silly questions."
"Be more respectful," said the Coroner again, and grew red. "Have you any idea as to the name of anyone who desired to obtain possession of this mummy?"
"I daresay dozens of scientists in my line of business would have liked to get the corpse of Inca Caxas. Such as - " and he reeled out a list of celebrated men.
"Nonsense," growled the Coroner. "Famous men like those you mention would not murder even for the sake of obtaining this mummy."
"I never said that they would," retorted Braddock, "but you wanted to hear who would like to have the mummy; and I have told you."
The Coroner waived the question.
"Was there any jewelry on the mummy likely to attract a thief?" he asked.
"How the devil should I know?" fumed the Professor. "I never unpacked the mummy; I never even saw it. Any jewelry buried with Inca Caxas would be bound up in the bandages. So far as I